MINI STORY: A Beta and His Mate

"The Beta and his Witch" Chapter 4

“Your Alpha and Luna, are they okay?” Sybil asked Ethan as she watched him in the garden.

It was two days later and Ethan hadn’t left her side once. He slept on her teeny tiny couch and did everything he could to help her throughout the day. Along with her magical traveling house, Sybil also had a magical traveling garden which Ethan had taken to tending. He spent hours out there weeding and picking the herbs and vegetables, even though Sybil could do it with one wave of her hand.

He did everything the hard way, Sybil thought, but she enjoyed watching him do it. The effort it took him to do his laundry by hand, make fresh pasta from scratch, squeeze the lemons for the lemonade, or make up his bed each night and morning was curious to Sybil, foreign even.

“August and Josie? Yeah, they’re fine.” Ethan said, wiping the sweat from his brow as he looked up at her.

“They seemed like a very strong couple. The Luna, she doesn’t have a wolf, right?” Sybil recalled all the horrible things that Marlow had told them about the Luna and Alpha of Crescent Moon and she knew that most of what she had said was probably wrong.

“Yeah, she’s wolfless but her father was an Alpha.” Ethan said, “Something to do with a deal he made with Marlow.

Oh Sybil knew all about that deal. She nodded her head but said nothing.

“Can I use some of these? I want to make you some of my fresh pasta sauce.” Ethan asked, holding up the basket of tomatoes and winking at his mate.

“Sure.” Sybil shrugged.

She didn’t want to tell him that she could snap her fingers and fill that basket with a hundred more tomatoes or that she wink and make cans upon cans of sauce. So, instead, she just agreed. Ethan loved to cook for her, she learned that his mother was Italian and his favorite pastime was learning to cook from her.

“Sweet.” Ethan grinned, grabbing a few more tomatoes and then moving on to the pots of herbs.

He cut off some bunches of parsley and oregano leaves, tossing them into his basket. I guess more ingredients for his pasta. Admittedly, Sybil had never cooked a day in her life; unless you count potions, which most people didn’t.

Ethan was sweaty as he came out of the garden and approached Sybil. He grinned mischievously at Sybil and she tensed up, preparing for whatever shenanigan he was up to. And, Sybil learned, Ethan was already up to something. He dropped the basket and drugged his head, shoving his dripping, shaggy hair into her neck and rubbing it against her skin. She shrieked and tried to push him away, unsuccessfully.

“Ethan!” She screamed and he started laughing hysterically, his shoulders shaking.

He pulled away from her neck and planted a loud kiss on her cheek before picking up the basket again and heading inside.

“You’re gross.” Sybil huffed, stomping after him.

“And I'm all yours, think about that.” Ethan teased.

“I’ve been trying not to.” Sybil grumbled but Ethan’s grin didn’t falter.

He had gotten used to her morbid humor and snide comments. He knew he was breaking through, could sense her cold exterior cracking, and he knew that he would win her over soon enough.

Ethan immediately got to work on his sauce and homemade noodles while Sybil tended to the fire, which simply meant flicking her hand towards the hearth and increasing the size of the flame. She moved her finger in a stirring motion over the cast iron cauldron, stirring the milky liquid inside.

“What is that?” Ethan asked as the aroma filled the air.

“Just a herbal tea. It helps to connect me to the spiritual plain.” Sybil said, placing the lid back on the pot.

“Like ghosts?” Ethan froze as he was kneading the dough, staring at Sybil from over his shoulder.

She snickered at his weary expression, she couldn’t help himself. His expressions ranged from crazy to ridiculous to dramatic and everyone of them made her heart skip a beat.

“Yes and more. It helps me to open up my senses so I can better see on a spiritual level. Ghosts, visions, an emotional connection, prophesies, etc.” Sybil shrugged.

“Right.” Ethan nodded like he was trying to pretend everything was normal.

He might be a man who turns into a giant dog, but even werewolves have their limits on weirdness. Sybil covered up her smirk with the back of her hand and shook her head at him. Ethan went back to working on his noodle dough and Sybil wandered into the kitchen to watch him.

“Do you want to help?” Ethan asked, looking at her sideways.

“Isn’t that like a one person job?” Sybil mumbled, bashfully tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Nah, come on.” Ethan shot her a crooked smirk before motioning for her to join him.

Ethan stepped back from the counter and had Sybil stand in front of him. He moved his arms around her sides and picked up her hands, placing them on the dough. He started kneading the dough with her fingers, his rough hand moving skillfully over her small, petite fingers.

“It’s really not so hard, you just have to get the right texture.” Ethan said, his warm breath blowing across the side of her face.

He was standing so close to her that his body heat was rolling over her in stifling waves. She shivered and Ethan misread it as Sybil being cold. He stepped away for a second and Sybil resisted the urge to whine in his absence and she immediately felt ridiculous for the thought. Seconds later, Ethan returned and tucked an afghan around her shoulders. She smiled at his thoughtfulness and sighed in contempt as his hands returned to hers.

“What kind of noodles do you want?” He whispered, his lips nearly brushing against her ear.

“I….the skinny ones.” Sybil stammered and Ethan’s low chuckled vibrated through her body.

His thumb started to rub against her hand and she wasn't entirely sure what that had to do with kneading the dough, but she wasn’t going to question it.

“Angel hair, fettuccine, spaghetti?” He rattled off different types of pasta.

“Yes.” Was all Sybil could manage to croak out.

Ethan started laughing even harder. He pulled her hands from the dough and turned her around, leaving just enough space between them for their now entwined fingers.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his eyes searching hers for any kind of emotion that he could name.

“N…nothing.” Sybil mumbled.

Ethan dropped one of her hands and gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, the pads of his fingers grazing across her cheek. He smirked at her and Sybil wasn’t sure why, not until he cupped her face and swiped his thumb over her cheek bone.

“You have flour on your face.”

“You have it on your hands.” She said matter-of-factly and he shrugged innocently.

“Job hazard.”

“Making noodles is your job?” Sybil squeaked out.

“It is when it makes you happy.” He lowered his voice and his gaze so they were now eye level, “You’re so beautiful, little witch.” Ethan purred.

Sybil wondered at the fact that his term of endearment sounded less like a snide comment and more like a loving phrase; she never thought being called a witch could be so sexy. She felt her face heat up with a rose colored blush and Ethan’s smile widened. He dropped her other hand and wrapped his arm around her waist, snaking his hand up her back. She didn’t fight him as he stepped closer to her, so close that her chest was brushing up against his.

He leaned down and Sybil thought he was going to kiss her, instead he moved towards her neck and inhaled deeply. A low growl vibrated his body and, in turn, Sybil’s.

“When I first sensed you as my mate the only thing I had to go on was your scent. You smelt of roses and something else but I couldn’t place it. Not until I went out to your garden the first day and smelt the herbs.” Ethan whispered.

“And? Which herb is it?” She asked curiously.

Ethan removed his face from her neck and locked eyes with her again, their faces so close that his ridiculously long and thick eyelashes nearly brushed against her cheek.

“Sage. You smell of roses and sage.” He said without a shadow of a doubt, “How do witches sense their mates?” He asked, tilting his head adorably.

“Your aura.” She said in a broken voice.

“Hm?” Ethan could barely pay attention to what she was saying even though he was the one who had asked the question.

“Witches sense their mates by their auras. We can read auras but none are as strong as our mate’s. It elicits the ultimate feeling of happiness and security; it’s indescribable really.” Sybil explained quietly, feeling embarrassed all of the sudden.

Ethan pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. Sybil noticed that his body was trembling ever so slightly.

“And what’s my aura?” He asked with his eyes still shut.

“Uhm….” Sybil figitied uncomfortably, making Ethan’s eyes snap open as he studied her carefully.

“You do sense me as your mate, right?” He suddenly looked terrified.

“Oh, yes, I do.”

If Sybil thought simply lying to this man would get him to call it quits, she might’ve done it. But, something deep down told her that he wouldn’t leave even if she didn’t sense him as her mate. This damn werewolf was nearly as pig headed and stubborn as she was.

“Good,” Ethan grinned, “Then, what do you sense?”

“Your aura is a color that surrounds you and an emotion which brings with it a sort of memory. Your aura is like a really dark green.” She confessed.

“And the memory?” Ethan was eager to hear more.

“When I was a child, I loved the forest around the coven. It was lush and filled with wildlife, like something from a storybook. The young witches used to run through the forest blind folded as a test of our connection to nature, it allowed us to harness our abilities. But, more than anything else, it was freeing and…fun. That’s what I feel when I see you.” Sybil’s heart was beating against her chest as she spoke openly to Ethan.

Ethan couldn’t stop smiling as his mate laid her heart bare for him. He knew how difficult all of this had been for her and each step forward was like a small miracle.

“Free and fun? I can work with that.” He smirked, winking at her to try and ease the tension that was surrounding them.

She blushed harder and cast her gaze down from his, embarrassed by the raw emotion she saw swimming in his brown orbs. Ethan put his finger under her chin and gently pushed her face up towards his again.

“I want to kiss you, Sybil, you have no idea how badly I want to kiss you.”

“I thought werewolves took whatever they wanted?” Sybil wasn’t sure where her confidence was coming from, but her voice hardly trembled as she mocked the Beta wolf before her.

Ethan felt his eyes darken and a small growl escaped his throat at his mate’s teasing. He tilted her face up even higher, arching her neck so he could get a good look at the spot where his mark would go.

“Do you want me to take what I want, little witch? I will but only if that’s what you want, too.” He said in a husky tone.

Sybil audibly gulped as she imagined all of the things that he wanted to take. She cursed her body as it betrayed her. Her cheeks were on fire from embarrassment there the rest of her body was on fire for a whole different reason and, by the look on Ethan’s face, he could smell it, too. He growled again and his expression contorted to an emotion Sybil had seen before.

“You are the most tempting creature in the universe.” He groaned.

“Ethan?” Sybil’s voice was barely audible but Ethan heard it. Of course he heard it when his mate said his name.

“Yes, my little witch?” Ethan c****d an eyebrow at her but whatever Sybil was going to say was lost in her throat, “You have to tell me what you want, baby.”

“I….” She couldn’t, it was too much. She sighed and frowned, frustrated with herself.

“Can I kiss you?” Ethan finally caved, sensing his mate’s overwhelming bashfulness but also the desire that was rolling off her body in waves.

“Yes.” Sybil squeaked and then Ethan’s mouth was on hers.

Ethan moved passionately against her lips, wasting no time as he wrapped his arms around her body and crushed her to his chest. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip and she gasped, opening her mouth to his. In seconds, he had her pressed against the counter and was leaning over her, arching his body around hers like a protective shield.

Sybil’s chest was heaving with breathlessness and unnamable emotions so Ethan released her mouth and allowed her to suck in a few deep breaths. Ethan buried his face in her neck, clinging to her scent desperately to calm down him and his wolf.